#Liquid Crystal IV

[arcadebroke]

DMG-01

[jawsofmisanthropy]

⠀ IV⠀from⠀Sleep Token⠀Stimboard With themes of the color blue, crystals, stars, and liquid! ⠀

[arolesbianism]

Man oni can't do this to me I'm supposed to be preparing for artfight but all I can think abt is Them™ from the second I wake up to the moment I go to bed how am I supposed to prepare in these circumstances 😔

[oananovicov]

"When they reached the door- a tall oval mouth, set in a wall fashioned in the likeness of a human face- the smallest dwarf Dany had ever seen was waiting on the threshold. He stood no higher than her knee, his face pinched and pointed, snoutish, but he was dressed in a delicate livery of purple and blue,and his tiny pink hands held a silver tray. Upon it rested a slender crystal glass filled with a thick blue liquid: shade of the evening, the wine of warlocks."Take and drink",urged Pyat Pree."

ACOK- Dany IV

[rexhya]

note — another scrap, maybe i'll come back to this....

✦ ✦

There were only a few things in your old life you’d really been proud of.

#1. Your independence, with both of your parents dead and no siblings to keep your lineage going, it was astounding you were able to find a stable job and place to live by your mid 20’s.

#2. Your remarkable ability to make absolutely 0 friends during the time of your stay, highschool, collage and into adulthood, none of them ever stuck around.

And #3. The copious amounts of manga and anime you’d been able to consume before your body decided to give in on itself in the hospital it lay in more than half of its life.

Which is why when you did finally pass, but found yourself in what you suspected to be another world, you weren’t so bothered. “Holy shit.” you muttered aloud, your appearance had never been so healthy looking before, cancer sort of did that to you.

You glanced around the environment, an IV was hooked to your arm, along with a glowing crystal shard that floated in a thick watery looking liquid, wait this kinda reminds me of…

You didn’t get to finish the thought as a woman with a clipboard entered your room, she stood there for what felt like hours before a shocked gasp arose from her lips, “Y-you..” she didn’t didn’t finish before running out of the room.

You could only cock your head in confusion before a different woman came back in in just as much disbelief as the nurse. She gaped and immediately began checking your vitals.

“Impossible…” she breathed. “Rumi, go get my phone, a person has awoken from the eternal slumber.”

—

It was confirmed by now, you’d been reincarnated, into Solo Leveling at that. There’d been an abundance of reporters that came to speak to you after the Doctor confirmed your near perfect health. The first ever, you knew this because in the manhwa, Jinwoo’s mother had only awoken after he’d reawakened.

You were an anomaly in this world, a world filled with gates that had vicious monsters that could tear you apart at any time no less.

You cursed, out of all the manghwa’s you could've been reincarnated into, of course it had to be a dangerous one. Was slice of life really just not an option? Apparently dying from leukemia wasn’t enough of a struggle.

In another case, disregarding the obvious danger you were in this was almost a dream come true, in this universe you’d been a collage student who’d tragically fallen under the mysterious disease, conveniently your parents were just as dead as they were in your old world, meaning you had no ties and had to play no roles when you returned to your home. Which the hospital and a sponsor of a Hunters guild would temporarily pay for in return to let them study your body.

You’d said yes immediately, you’d trade a few weekly checkups over homelessness anyday. Not to mention you were living in a completely different world now, the last thing you wanted to worry about was your bills. Especially not when your all time crush and favorite character was literally in the same country as you.

“Sung Jinwoo…my glorious king…literally.” you sighed, clutching your phone to your chest, as soon as you’d gotten home you’d done some looking and thankfully for you, nearly zero results popped up. That meant he was either still hidden from the public or hadn't been re-evaluated yet. Either way it was good news for you, it meant you had a chance to meet him, and possibly befriend him.

You squealed into your pillow at the thought, Pre-Death Statue Jinwoo as you liked to call him was still as adorable as Post-Death Statue Jinwoo. Though now that you really thought about it, it would probably be way more hard to befriend in his Post-Statue state, which wasn’t even guaranteed in the first place, you had no idea where you were, much less where Jinwoo was. For all you knew he could be on the other side of Korea right now, getting demolished in a D-ranked dungeon.

But didn’t reincarnations stories always come with some sort of purpose, why would the universe put you here just to watch, it didn’t make sense. You flopped backwards, trying not to think about it. In any case, you were happy to be alive, with free rent for at least 6 months. So what if you never got to interfere with the plot?

From the 200 chapters you’d read of the manhwa, the world and Jinwoo would be fine, with or without you.

For some reason the thought made you more frustrated, what was the point of living if you were just going to live the exact same life you’d had before. I mean sure, no one wanted their heads crushed by an ogre or ankle sliced by a goblin because of a stupid gate break but that didn’t mean you didn’t want any excitement, at the very least you’d make some new friends, and find a stable job. You were determined now, why should you just sit around waiting for your life to pass by?

That’s right, you shouldn't, and the first thing you wanted to do to make sure that wouldn't happen is buy some food and a manga, they had to have some good copies in this world.

You stood up and marched to your door, swinging it open, you saw a figure in the corner of your eyes, the sight had startled you so much you swear you broke your neck trying to see who it was. Black silky hair, round warm eyes, and a build that stood with a calm humbleness to it.

“Sung Jinwoo?” you squeaked, and immediately pressed palms against your mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck I did not mean to say that, now he’s gonna think I’m a creep!

He was on guard immediately, “Uhm do I know you?” His voice was confused. You stammered looking for something, anything to say. I mean what could you say? What possible explanation could account for your knowing his name? Jinwoo only looked more suspicious as your silence continued, and finally when you needed it most, the reincarnation gods decided to help you out.

Super Script:

I’m your neighbor remember, sorry you probably don't remember me since I’ve been away so long. I’m the girl who fell into an eternal slumber, and woke from it.

It was like a digital screen was in your face, the box [f/c] and pixelated. You didn’t waste any time in repeating the words back to him, Jinwoo’s face relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief, you're glad you were meeting Pre-Statue Jinwoo right now, who knows what would have happened if you weren’t.

“That’s right, your [Name], I can’t believe I forgot. I knew I recognized that name somewhere, who would have thought…”

The last part was muttered so you hadn’t completely heard what you’d said but you’d take any sort of friendliness from the man you could get.

The two of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, Jinwoo had been so wrapped up in his own life that when he’d heard of the girl who’d awoken from the incurable illness he didn’t believe it. You weren’t a very noticeable neighbor, he wasn’t even sure he'd spoken to you when you’d first moved in.

“You fell asleep 3 years ago.” He said suddenly, and you nodded like you knew what he was talking about. “And now you're awake.” you nodded again.

Despite how badly you’d been wanting to meet the man, you wished in the moment you could crumble into the floor like dust. Jinwoo still wasn’t saying anything, only looking at your body dubiously which you ignored how hot it made you feel and instead focused on the [f/c] screen that had now switched to a phone like homepage.

On one hand, this was amazing, Jinwoo right here in front of you, his soft chubby features and completely harmless, it gave you a sense of where you were in the timeline and where the world was.

On the other hand, you were still completely useless to any monster that might attack from a dungeon.

“That’s amazing, you’re amazing [Name].” you blinked.

“Huh?”

Jinwoo shook his head to explain, “You didn’t know but around the time you fell asleep my mother did as well, this whole time I’ve been hoping someone or something might change and then you show up. It’s just amazing.” You smiled, it made sense, Jinwoo’s whole reason for becoming a hunter was to fund the hospital bills to support his sister and mother, all he wanted was for them to be safe, it must feel like a dream come true to see you standing here.

It also gave you a slight sense of guilt, because the only reason you were standing here was because you’d died in your last world, not because you’d really been cured, not because of some miracle like he’s been hoping for.

“Wow, I’m so sorry to hear that, I’m sure your mother won’t be too far behind,” you nodded.

“I hope so.” he squeezed his fists for a moment looking at you with a noticeable gaze of longing, you were sure he was imagining his mother in your place, alive, healthy and speaking. You weren’t lying about her not being too far behind however, if Jinwoo’s life played out exactly as it should have, it wouldn’t be long before Post-Statue Jinwoo arrived and with it his immeasurable power and a cure for his mother.

Which probably means I shouldn’t interact with him too much, something might happen and cause a rift in the story. But we’re neighbors, a hi every now and then can’t be so bad… It also didn’t go without saying the screen still in your face had to mean something, maybe it was your job to keep the storyline in check, maybe you were like admin for Solo Leveling or something...you had no idea.

“Well..uhm it was nice meeting you.” you said and Jinwoo's face paled into a rosy pink.

“Right! Uh, I’ll see you around I guess.” You nodded and began walking towards the stairs, you still needed a few things for your apartment, your fridge was completely empty and you didn’t want to go home on an empty stomach, it was also probably worth it trying to explore the city.

Embarrassingly enough, Jinwoo was also going in the same direction. “Oh haha, where are you headed? I didn’t realize you were going this way.” He put a hand on his neck, rubbing it sheepishly.

You only laughed nervously, trying not to blush from how effortlessly adorable he was being. “Oh I just need a few groceries…what about you? Off to a dungeon I assume.”

Jinwoo paused for a moment, descending the last few steps until you reached the apartment entrance. “Yeah actually, how did you know?”

You internally slapped your forehead, this is what you get for trying to make conversation. No wonder you had no friends in your past life. “Well, weren’t you always a hunter? I vaguely remember you saying something about that…three years ago…before my coma…haha?” you gulped, trying your best to sound convincing.

Luckily enough for you he bought it. “Oh that’s right, sorry I just keep forgetting you’re three years behind…yeah.. I quit hunting.” Jinwoo kept walking on the sidewalk, leading you in whatever direction he desired, you however, stopped dead in your tracks.

“You…quit?.” You Jinwoo turned around, an embarrassed look on his face.

“Yeah, you probably remember at the time I started I was an E rank hunter, yeah, I never improved…every re-evaluation I had left me at E-rank, there’s just no point of me risking my life for dirt poor pay so I quit.

"I’m actually on my way to an interview right now!” Jinwoo laughed heartily like anything he’s just said was funny, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he never quit in the light novel, why the hell did he now?

This is because of me isn’t it, somehow someway I’ve messed this up, wait don’t tell me I’m the player now!? Your heart thrummed at the possibility, I mean, there was the screen that had yet to fade away, though it was different from Jinwoo's. It was there and very much likely to mean you had replaced his spot in this world.

“Absoulutely the fuck not.” you said sternly, a sudden rush of anger overtaking your body, this is NOT what you signed up for.

You did not fight years of cancer just to die and wake up and have too brutally die again, you did NOT want to become this looming S-ranked Hunter who had to fight beasts and even kill people just to save the world, you did NOT want to become the shadow monarch, king guy, whatever who was feared by all and ruled over all for fun and games, that was not your role in the story and you did NOT need that kind of responsibility.

Jinwoo, rightfully looked confused, your sudden switch in emotions causing him to jump. “Huh?”

You stomped towards the man planting two palms on his shoulders. “Cancel the interview.”

“What? Why?” Jinwoo looked a bit terrified as you gripped his shoulders harder.

“I said, cancel the interview Jinwoo.” you squeezed harder, you didn’t care what the universe had in store for you but this outcome, couldn't be one of them.

“B-but–” he started but you had already come up with a plan.

“It’s for construction right? Your job interview? Cancel it, today there is going to be a huge accident with a crane and one too many bricks, if you go there you’ll die.” you bore into Jinwoo’s eyes, really trying to get the message across.

The truth was, you had no idea if he was heading to construction, but it was a good guess based on Jinwoo’s abilities at the time. He probably wanted something still physical that paid enough to keep his family as stable as it could be.

By the look on Jinwoo’s face, you’d guessed right, “H-how did…” but he didn’t finish as you dragged him back into the apartment building, the groceries long forgotten.

✦ ✦

[qoldenskies]

i hope it's okay to message you about this (that bringing it up helps, not makes it worse)

it's about the people who've been being dicks about your writing

this popped up in my dash really soon after your boundaries post, and holy shit the timing

the people criticizing your work need to have this vacuum-sealed onto their brains

not just the people unable to curate their own experiences, but also the people being overly critical of the technical side

i'm gonna be super pretentious and pull the "my mom is an english major" card to try and make myself sound more Qualified To Judge when i say---- your works are REALLY good

you may not be a mainstream-famous author with 30+ years of experience, but seriously, if it weren't for the copyright issue, it would be *more* than quality enough to publish

-with a *good* publisher

so many people love it, and it's also better, from a technical standpoint, than most novels you could pick up at random in a bookstore

because it has a *depth* to it that's so hard to achieve

it anchors its hooks into your mind and steadily reels you in as the darkening atmosphere slowly- almost imperceptibly, at first- curdles, gradually infusing liquid ice, drop by drop, into your blood

the further you read, the further the dread deepens, smoothly and organically, like a spreading puddle of rot seeping from the belly of a discarded carcass

it's so *realistic* in its gradual nature that it feels like you're watching the nightmare develop in real time

it sucks you in

it gets to the point where it feels like the angst has peaked, sucking the breath straight from your lungs- and then the tension *just keeps climbing*, the dread crystallizing into sickly cold shards down your spine with each additional scene until it all shatters at once and you're left trying to remember how to breathe

it's the sort of story that makes you have to stop and stare at the ceiling for several minutes after reading, just to process

whatever people have been criticizing and nitpicking about, it, doesn't change the fact that only *really well written* stories are able to grip your heart and wring it out on your shoes like that, and you should *absolutely* be proud

it's so good

this is so kind ;~; this is probably the most descriptive praise ive ever gotten of any of my writing and idek what to say. need to ss this and squirrel it away somewhere or something cause waow

[melishade]

Attack on Prime Future Anthology: Therapy

Main Story

Christmas

Long Overdue

Boxing

Music IV

Everyone is finally going to therapy. Be warned. Heavy topics ahead.

Optimus found himself in that same place again, the place where the power of the titans had ended. He was staring down Eren once more, defeated, heartbroken, but accepting of his duty, of his role and responsibility. He gripped the Star Saber in his servo before charging at Eren. He remembered going through the motions of that final battle, throwing beams of energy at him, cutting off one of his arms.

But when he ran and dealt the final blow, ramming the Star Saber through Eren's titan form, he gasped in horror when the blade of the weapon was through the neck of Eren's human form instead of his titan form. The black armor and jagged teeth were replaced by trembling lips and pale, bloodstained skin. Optimus felt his whole body shake as tears fell down Eren's face. The teen had gripped the sword with his own hands, trying to get the blade out of his neck, but Optimus was locked in. He couldn't take the blade out.

Blood poured out of Eren's neck and mouth as he looked at Optimus with pleading eyes. "W-wh-!" Eren coughed and wheezed in pain. "W-hy? D-ad, wh-y-!"

Optimus gasped in horror as he shot up the berth, awakening from that horrible nightmare. He looked around and found himself in one of the rooms on the Nemesis. The Autobots have still been using the ship to help out with relief efforts, and have made it into their temporary base for the time being. The Prime looked down at his trembling servos before wiping his optics to relieve the tension that he was feeling. He wanted to tell himself that it was a trick of the mind, a nightmare that was over, but that nightmare was caused by a reality that he created. And it's a nightmare that's been happening for a few weeks now.

Optimus got up from the berth and opened the door to leave his room. He walked down the halls of the Nemesis, which had been cleared of majority of the humans. However, there were still many of them left without homes or family members to stay with, so the Decepticon warship was their home for the time being.

Optimus pressed the button to another room and saw Bumblebee using the energon processor in the lab. The Autobot patiently watched the crystal turn into a liquid, resting his elbow against the table and his chin on his servo.

Bumblebee's optics rotated when the door had closed behind Optimus before turning his attention to the Prime. "Hey, Optimus."

“I did not realize you were awake,” Optimus remarked.

“Yeah, well I’m pulling an all nighter,” Bumblebee sighed in defeat as he showed Optimus the files on the data pad, “The whole situation with Cyclonus opened up a slew of connections to other Decepticons that Cyclonus was trying to employ. There are a few that are currently imprisoned on a ship called the Alcamore and I'm going over, but some of these aren't as severe compared to crimes like Starscream and Shockwaves. I'm thinking of making an appeal."

"Then I shall leave you to your duty," Optimus declared as he turned around.

"You came in here for energon, right?" Bumblebee gestured to the machine, "Sit. I'll make you some."

"I do not want to distract you," Optimus insisted.

Bumblebee smirked, "It's been four years since I've gotten to talk to you. I want you here."

Optimus couldn't help but feel touched before deciding to sit across from Bumblebee. "Do you require any assistance?"

"Don't worry. I've got it," Bumblebee reassured with a wave of his servo, "Honestly I should just put this aside for a while."

Bumblebee shut down the datapad just as the energon processor beeped, signaling it was done. The lieutenant pulled the container out of the machine before grabbing two cubes and pouring the contents of it into two glass cubes. Bumblebee handed one of them to Optimus before raising his in a toast.

"To all nighters!" Bumblebee grinned.

"To all nighters," Optimus echoed back in kind before the two drank from their respective glasses.

"So what are you doing up so late?" Bumblebee couldn't help but ask. Bumblebee was surprised when he noticed something. Optimus had flinched at the question. His servo had tightened a little around glass.

"I was...unable to sleep," Optimus admitted.

Bumblebee couldn't help but feel pity at Optimus' confession. Part of him felt guilty for pressing, but he felt like he needed to. Optimus had changed so much since they had last seen each other. He was more open and vulnerable, and the Prime was no doubt suffering through his own losses. "Was it...because of a nightmare?"

Bumblebee was stunned to see the mask slip once more before it went right back up.

"I do not wish to discuss it," Optimus declared, "It is not something that I want to burden you with."

Bumblebee was already making speculations in his own mind about what those nightmares were about. But a name did come to mind: Eren Jaeger. It's been over six months since Eren had died, since Optimus had killed Eren, and the act has brought Optimus nothing but grief and torment. Optimus' outburst when Eren was brought up nearly costed them the peace treaty. Something needed to be done about it.

"You know," Bumblebee began, "You could...talk to someone about these nightmares and how you're feeling."

Optimus didn't say anything, but Bumblebee continued. "All of us have been going to therapy, since the war ended. We're finally in an environment where we can confront our trauma in a healthy manner. The most popular one is Rung. I can give you his contact info and you can-!"

"I do not want to," Optimus cut him off.

"If you're worried about the whole Optimus Prime situation, Rung won't say anything. I promise," Bumblebee reassured.

"I do not want to go to therapy," Optimus declared.

"Optimus, I think it would be good for you," Bumblebee insisted.

"The information I know and the burdens that I bare are not meant for anyone else," Optimus retorted.

"You don't have to tell them everything. Just one thing at a time," Bumblebee pressed.

"I cannot," Optimus declared, doing his best to remain calm.

"...I'm sorry, Optimus, but why?" Bumblebee pleaded, "You've been through enough, more than anyone else that we know. You could really use this. You need this. You don't have to think about leading us right now. We can wait for you. You can just focus on yourself."

Optimus didn't have a reply to that, so Bumblebee continued, wanting to get a confirmation that Optimus would take up his offer. "I know that it's been six months since that day that you had to-!"

The nightmare version of Eren flashed through his mind before crushing the glass cube in his servo, spilling energon all over the table. Optimus was stunned his reaction while Bumblebee was already on his pedes. Optimus quickly collected himself before standing up.

"I will not be going to therapy," Optimus declared coldly before standing up and leaving the room. He didn't even bother to wipe the energon from his servo as he stepped outside. Meanwhile, Bumblebee stared at the mess that Optimus had made, seeing his reflection in the energon. He wanted to help his leader and friend, but...he was certain he just made it worse. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to, but...he did.

========

Something was clearly wrong with Optimus, and it's been going on for the past few days.

In all their years of knowing Optimus, Hanji could tell when Optimus was in a bad mood. But this seemed serious. Optimus was forcing a smile, keeping conversations short, refusing to engage with world leaders like Willy Tybur. And he just didn't seem to want to sleep. He looked so exhausted.

But one thing that Hanji did notice, was that Optimus was actively avoiding Bumblebee. Which was strange. Optimus and Bumblebee seemed to be on pretty good standing with each other, but now things seemed to be rather tense. Like Optimus was trying to avoid Bumblebee every time he tried to talk to him. They weren't sure if they should ask, but....it was time for an interrogation.

"Bumblebee, hello!" Bumblebee jolted when Hanji landed on his shoulder with their 3D gear, "How have you been?!"

"Oh! I'm...fine," Bumblebee answered.

"Hmmm. I doubt that," Hanji accused, causing Bumblebee to flinch, "What's wrong? You can tell little old me."

"I don't really know you that well," Bumblebee reminded.

"Then it's the perfect time to get to know each other," Hanji proclaimed, "Tell me, do you have a favorite food?"

"I know when someone's trying to interrogate me. I've been in that situation one too many times," Bumblebee explained.

"Boo! You're no fun!" Hanji jeered, "But I'm serious. What's wrong? You and Optimus have been acting strange around each other. It's unlike the both of you."

"It's that obvious?" Bumblebee sighed in defeat.

"I've studied Optimus for years, I've annoyed Megatron for years, and my best friend is Levi," Hanji listed, "When you're surrounded by people like that, you can read anyone else."

Bumblebee sighed in defeat. "I recommended therapy to Optimus, and he said no."

"I doubt that it ended with just 'no'," Hanji assumed. Bumblebee's rather despondent expression answered their question, "What is therapy exactly?"

"Basically, it's a way to talk to someone about your problems and they psychoanalyze you to figure out what's wrong and determine how to make you better," Bumblebee explained.

"Oh, I think I've heard about that through your human allies," Hanji recalled, "But this is Optimus we're talking about. He harbors the weight of the world on his shoulders and refuses to let anyone else harbor that burden."

"...then he's probably never going to do therapy," Bumblebee lamented, "Especially not for me."

"I wouldn’t say that," Hanji chided before an idea formed into their head, "But I have an idea."

===

Later on Earth

"You want us to go to therapy?!" Sasha asked Hanji in confusion as the Survey Corps, Warriors, Jack ,and Miko were seating in the recreation area of Unit E. However, Jean and Rafael were missing from the group.

"Yes, for Optimus!" Hanji declared.

"Don't care. I'm out." Annie stood up and walked down the steps.

"Coward!" Hanji shouted, "No one else is leaving or I'm jumping them!"

"Wait a minute, what even caused this to happen?" Jack asked in confusion.

"See, I spoke with Bumblebee, and he told me he recommended therapy to Optimus, which Optimus has refused because he doesn't know how to take care of himself," Hanji explained.

"Can attest. I had to coerce Optimus into washing himself every few weeks." Levi raised his hand.

"It does look like he hasn't slept in a while, and he's refused to talk to Willy," Historia added.

"Dude's probably still wrecked over the fact that he killed Eren," Ymir stated, "He almost blew the peace treaty because of it."

"But how would us going to therapy help Optimus go to therapy?" Pieck asked in confusion, "As far as I'm concerned, Bumblebee worked with Optimus for millions of years and Optimus said no to him."

"Well to see all of his friends go to therapy could give him the moral support he needs to go himself," Hanji insisted, "And also, Optimus has a very different dynamic with the Autobots compared to us. There are expectations with the Autobots because of his status as a Prime. We don't give a shit about that."

"Not to mention, all of you guys need therapy," Jack declared, "None of you guys are sane."

"I would consider myself sane!" Hanji proclaimed.

"Hanji, that's a terrible joke," Erwin said, earning a glare from the Commander.

"You guys have been through so much trauma, at this point. Therapy shouldn't even be about Optimus. It should be about you," Jack explained.

"Does therapy help?" Armin asked.

"It does," Miko answered, "We've been going to therapy ever since we became agents. But it was also because Jack's mom insisted we do."

"Good decision, honestly. We love the Autobots, but we've been in too many life and death situations," Jack said.

"Doesn't help that the one who caused majority of our traumatic experiences is running around on another planet!" Miko glared at Hanji.

"Okay, I will take fault for that," Hanji relented.

"I mean...is it...safe?" Falco couldn't help but ask.

"Is therapy safe?" Miko almost laughed, earning an elbow jab from Jack.

"It's never been safe for Eldians to admit how they truly feel, lest they be shipped off to Paradis and turned into titans," Pieck reminded Miko in a cold tone.

"Sorry," Miko apologized.

"Therapy sounds like weakness. I don't want to go," Gabi declared.

"I get it. It can be nerve wracking to admit certain things about yourself to a person you don't know, but it's good and the doctor is obligated by law to not saw anything about your conversation," Jack explained.

"...Jean mentioned it to me," Mikasa spoke up, "He says it's been helpful."

"What's been helpful?" Jean asked as he walked up the steps.

"Therapy," Hanji answered.

"Oh yeah, therapy's great," Jean agreed.

"Really?" Sasha asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I go to group therapy with a bunch of U.S. war vets who've also lost their limbs." Jean gestured to his prosthetic leg, "We talk about our experiences and the recovery process and sometimes we get food."

"Oh we can get food?!" Sasha exclaimed.

"That's more exclusive to group therapy, I think. Not individual appointments," Jean explained.

"Did you run into Raf?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, he looked tired when I ran into him when he finished his therapy appointment. He looked tired, said 'Don't talk to me', and drank a giant cup of coffee," Jean explained.

"Yeah, Raf doesn't talk about therapy. He's the most messed up out of us three," Miko proclaimed.

"But it helps?!" Hanji pressed.

"Yeah, it's just nice to talk to someone with a similar experience and not get demeaned for being vulnerable," Jean answered, "It's also nice to talk to some people with sanity!"

"Good, so we should all do it!" Hanji addressed the rest of them, ignoring Jean's jab at them, "I am willing to schedule an appointment! Who's with me?!"

Everyone else muttered nervously, causing Hanji to groan. "C'mon! Jean said it was good! Listen to him!"

"It doesn't have to be consistent," Jack reassured, "You guys can just do one therapy session to get a feel for it. If you don't like it, then you don't have to schedule another appointment."

"...Just one?" Armin asked.

"Just do one! For Optimus!" Hanji pleaded.

Mikasa remembered the day Optimus had arrived at her door and how he broke down in fronts. She remembered his tears and his apologies, and the pain that he felt and is still feeling. He needs help. Now more than ever. "I'll do it. I'll do therapy."

"...Fine. But just one," Levi informed.

"Yes!" Hanji cheered.

"Do we have to?" Gabi asked Pieck, "Can we just not do it like Annie?"

"You know how Annie is. But therapy might be good for you," Pieck insisted, "We've been through a lot, and I'm sure that you want to talk to someone about how you feel."

Gabi looked down in guilt.

"And wouldn't it be liberating to finally talk about it?" Pieck asked, "This is a luxury none of us thought we could ever have: to be truthful without consequences."

Gabi thought it over and sighed. "Fine. But I'll just waste time."

"Gabi," Pieck warned her.

"Okay, I'm calling our therapist, Dr. Hernandez. She's the one that knows the most about the situation since we've been telling her about it in therapy," Jack said as he opened his phone.

"She's not going to be happy about that," Miko told him.

"I know, but they need it," Jack declared, "And if this somehow helps Optimus. It'll be worth it."

======

A few days later

Armin opened the door and stepped into an office. He was told that this was the place where the therapy appointment was supposed to take place, and it looked surprisingly cozy. There were two soft chairs facing each other with a table separating the two. On the table, was a desert plant in a vase and a box of tissues. There was a long couch right behind the chair with a pillow on the end of it. There was also a round beige rug under the two chairs. No windows were in the room. No rays of sunlight. It was just four plain walls with a few paintings of plants hanging on each one.

Armin flinched when he heard the door open behind him and turned to see a woman in a lab coat and combat boots step into the room. She had a light brown skin complexion, and dark wavy hair tied in a low ponytail. She held a notebook and clipboard in her hand, and when she went to look at her clipboard, Armin saw a scar over her left eye, with the cornea scratched out.

"Armin...Arlert? Am I pronouncing that right?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's correct," Armin replied and the woman held out her hand and smiled.

"My name is Dr. Isabel Hernandez. I'm an MD that received my credentials from Northwestern University, and I've been specialist in my craft for ten years now," she introduced herself, "I've heard about your accomplishments on your home planet. The U.S. government commends you for your bravery."

"Thank you." Armin reached out and shook her hand, "What's Northwestern University?"

"It's a prestigious school in the U.S.," Dr, Hernandez explained, "I usually explain my credentials and qualifications to my patients to put them more at ease."

"Oh," Armin muttered.

"I have been caught up on the situation from reports and eye witnesses, so I do have an fairly decent understanding," she explained, "Please take a seat and we can get started on our session."

"Okay." Armin couldn't help but be nervous as he sat down in one of the chairs, the one that was on his left. The therapist took the seat on the right before pulling out her notebook and opening it.

"So what brings you into my office today?" she asked.

=========

"Our Commander, Hanji Zoe, insisted that we all do at least one session of therapy," Mikasa explained, "They said that it was because Optimus was refusing to go to therapy when Bumblebee insisted he do."

"So you're doing this because of Optimus Prime?" Dr. Hernandez asked, "Did you feel obligated or pressured into doing this because of Hanji Zoe's insistence?"

Mikasa thought it over. "Not entirely...no..." Mikasa found herself picking at the fabric of her skirt. "I had actually heard about it through Jean. He recommended it to me, and...I've thought about it for a while. I've...just been putting it off."

"Was it something that was intentional?" she asked.

"No...I don't think so," Mikasa answered, "I've been getting physical therapy. I've had to get some skin grafting for my arms. And then I've been helping out with repairs from the damage from the Rumbling."

"I did ask Nurse Darby for some of the basic information regarding your medical notes, and she told me that you didn't come to Earth to get treatment until over a month later," Dr. Hernandez explained as she looked at her clipboard, "What prompted you to wait to receive treatment?"

"I...I just wanted to be left alone after the Rumbling," Mikasa admitted, "I was tired. I didn't want to fight anymore."

"But you came back," Dr. Hernandez stated, "Why?"

"...it was because of Optimus," Mikasa admitted.

"It does sound like part of you believes you're doing this as a form of repayment for Optimus," Dr. Hernandez stated, "Therapy shouldn't be a form of repayment for someone else. It's for your own health and benefit."

"It's a lot more complicated than that," Mikasa admitted.

"Would you be willing to explain?" she asked.

Mikasa looked down at her hands. "I...I abandoned my comrades and went home. I just wanted to live in peace...but I couldn't...Armin and the others...they came to try and bring me back...I refused...."

Mikasa waited for the woman to interrupt her, but she didn't. She was patiently waiting for her to finish her story. "I...I was tired....I was so tired of everything."

A memory of the knife in her hands flashed through her mind and she felt an immense amount of guilt. "I tried to end it all...but Optimus found me..." Tears formed in her eyes. "And he was....so devastated...he was in pain...they were all in pain. How could I think of leaving them?"

Dr. Hernandez handed Mikasa a box of tissues as she started crying. Mikasa took a few and wiped her tears before blowing her nose out. "Mikasa, I do have to ask a series of questions now that you've admitted that you've attempted to take your life."

"But that was only one time!" Mikasa insisted, "I haven't wanted to take my life since!"

"So you haven't attempted suicide again?" Mikasa shook her head.

"Have you had suicidal thoughts?" Mikasa shook her head.

"Any signs of depression?" Mikasa paused at that before nodding her head.

"Then we're going to have to dig deeper into that," Dr. Hernandez declared, "I'm sorry, but it is standard procedure."

Mikasa nodded in response, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy at that.

========

"I lost my best friend!" Sasha broke down into tears, "Connie died in my arms and I had to bury him and I know it's been months now, but it still hurts! My skills couldn't help him! I couldn't save him! And Eren was the one who killed him!"

Dr. Hernandez was a little taken aback by the outburst but quickly recollected herself before handing Sasha a box of tissues. "Eren Jaeger was once your comrade, correct?"

"We all used to be friends!" Sasha yelled, "I just don't get why he would do it! All this time I thought it would be some sort of misunderstanding! We all fought together! Ate together! Slept under the same roof! And he still attacked us!"

"You are taken off-guard because you never expected this kind of betrayal from a friend," Dr. Hernandez said.

"I don't get it! Did he want to destroy the world more than being by our side?!" Sasha demanded. Dr. Hernandez didn't flinch as Sasha grabbed the potted plant and threw it at the wall, shattering the vase to pieces and getting dirt on the ground.

=======

"So you are not doing this because your Commander insist that you do?" Dr. Hernandez asked Erwin.

"Hanji used to be my subordinate. I'm certain I could get them in line if I pushed too far," Erwin proclaimed, "No, I'm doing this because...I harbor a tremendous amount of guilt. I've lead many of my comrades to their deaths for my own selfish desires, lying to others and myself saying it was for the sake of humanity."

"I see. I have heard through the reports that a few of you believed humanity to be extinct," Dr. Hernandez recalled.

"I had suspected that humanity wasn't extinct, and I joined the Survey Corps in order to confirm those suspicions," Erwin admitted.

"You joined a military branch with the highest mortality rate to confirm a suspicious?" Dr. Hernandez raised an eyebrow at that, "Can you explain what caused you to make a decision like that?"

"....My ignorance had gotten my father killed when I was a young boy," Erwin admitted.

======

"You were an orphan on the streets, taken in by a cult and worshipped as a deity, arrested, tortured, locked in what was essentially a prison for sixty years, regained your humanity by eating someone, and then you joined the military because you heard about an illegitimate heir who later became your wife," Dr. Hernandez recapped.

"Yeah, that's my whole life story," Ymir shrugged.

"I'm concerned with the rather flippant attitude you're giving me," Dr. Hernandez confessed.

"Look, I don't know what else to say here," Ymir confessed, "My case is weird, and I doubt that you can help me resolve all of that."

Dr. Hernandez put a hand over her mouth. "Well I can't help with the sixty years of imprisonment, but I have given therapy to former cult members. So if you want, we can discuss your life during that time and discuss any deep seated trauma the cult might have given you."

Ymir sighed at that. "Well, I was used as a scapegoat for the cult when we got arrested. So I guess I can unpack all that."

========

"I don't really enjoy being the Queen of Paradis," Historia admitted, "Frankly, it was a responsibility forced on me because my father wanted to keep humanity ignorant because of the will of one of my ancestors. There are some perks to it. I'm able to use my power to give children homes, and I am respected for having the command of two of the most powerful titans in existence, but I wouldn't mind not having all of this power and responsibility on my shoulders."

"You were never given any proper training for your position. I can imagine the pressures you are experiencing," Dr. Hernandez commented, "Have you been able to communicate with anyone else in your position when you learned of humanity's survival?"

"I have with Emperor Kenshin," Historia explained, "He's older than I am, and has a lot more experience. So I've asked him for advice."

"Well it is good that you've taken a proactive step in reaching out for help," Dr. Hernandez praised.

"But am I going to have to be queen for the rest of my life?" Historia groaned in defeat, "I'm married to Ymir. I'm not going to be producing a biological heir anytime soon."

"There are resources on Earth that I can direct you to regarding different forms of government. Once you feel everything has stabilized, you can reviews these resources and try to implement them yourself," Dr. Hernandez suggested.

"That sounds perfect!" Historia exclaimed with excitement.

"But you have to be careful," Dr. Hernandez warned, "If you don't do this right, a coup can happen, and someone can usurp power from you."

"I understand," Historia nodded.

======

"Hey, look!" Hanji pointed to their eyepatch before pointing to the doctor's damaged eye, "Twins!"

Dr. Hernandez's mouth formed a thin line before writing something down.

"What-uh? What are you writing?" Hanji asked nervously.

"That you deflect your trauma through humor," Dr. Hernandez replied.

Hanji gasped in horror. "I don't do that! I am actually quite open with my emotions! I find it to be very helpful!...Although, there was one time...."

"Hm," Dr. Hernandez hummed in response.

"I didn't deflect my emotions," Hanji insisted, "But I did let my anger get the better of me when I found out about a friend's death at the hands of a temporary ally we made, and in anger I asked Megatron to kill him for me, but when he said no I threw two bottles of whiskey at him."

Dr. Hernandez stared in disbelief before scratching out the note that she had made. "Never mind, you and I are going to have to dig deeper."

"Breaking down my own mind," Hanji grinned, "How fun."

Dr. Hernandez didn't reply as she wrote 'impulsive', 'hyper fixated', and 'reckless' next to each other.

======

Levi didn't say anything. He refused to say a word as he sat across from the therapist in his wheelchair. The two remained in silence for a good few minutes, both staring each other down. Dr. Hernandez broke her gaze as she went to write something down in her notebook.

"Don't you fucking dare write anything down," Levi ordered her, causing her to pause, her pen not even touching the paper. The therapist then set the notebook and pen on the table.

"Okay, how do you want to do this?" Dr. Hernandez asked.

Levi raised an eyebrow at that. "As far as I know, I don't have to tell you shit."

"You're right," Dr. Hernandez shrugged, "We could sit here for 30 minutes in silence and I would still get paid. But I can't force you to do something that you don't want to. It violates HIPAA. In fact, you're more than welcome to leave."

Levi sighed at that. "I'm still...deciding."

"Are you doing this for Hanji's sake, Optimus' sake, or your own sake?" she asked.

"...I don't know," Levi admitted.

"Well we have 20 minutes left when you're ready to answer." Dr. Hernandez checked her watch.

=======

Pieck couldn't help but start tapping her cane nervously as she sat on the long couch. "I've...it's been a while since I've been in a compromising position like this. I try my best to avoid that."

"You lived in an internment zone your whole life before becoming a weapon of the state," Dr. Hernandez recalled, "I can imagine why you would be nervous."

"It's not even just that," Pieck admitted before lying down, "I did...I did everything right. I knew that Marley was a sham and they would probably kill us later down the line, but I still played by the rules because I believed in my comrades who I've fought beside. I did all of this, killed so many people, just so my father could continue living. Sure, my life would have been shortened, but for me, it was a small price to pay."

Pieck's grip on the cane got tighter. "But the Rumbling happened, and my home got crushed. My father no doubt got crushed with it. I've been holding onto a fleeting hope that they might have gotten out, but who am I kidding? They probably got crushed to death. I played by the rules, and my father dies. Annie broke the rules, and her father gets to live."

"Do you resent Annie for that?" Dr. Hernandez asked.

"Yes....no...I don't know," Pieck confessed, "She was given an out and she took it. Who wouldn't in our position? But I...I just want my dad back."

Pieck started crying as she covered her eyes to hide her tears. "Everything I ever did was for nothing."

==========

"My brother and I were forced to become Warriors because of what our uncle did," Colt explained, "It was either we shorten our lifespans for the sake of Marley, or get turned into titans for combat."

"How old were you when you were forced to enlist?" Dr. Hernandez asked.

"Twelve for me. Eight for my brother," Colt answered.

"You've seen too much death and destruction for someone your age," Dr. Hernandez commented.

"Yeah," Colt sighed, "With....the attack on Liberio...twice...the Rumbling...but...I can't help but feel happy."

Colt clenched his fists. "Sure the world got trampled, my parents are dead, but Marley's been destroyed, and I've never been happier. They can't hurt us. They can't hurt me, my brother, or anyone else I care about ever again. And I'm glad their dead."

Colt froze in fear, slowly turning his gaze to the therapist. But she didn't respond to his sinister thoughts. She didn't even write anything down. "I-!"

"Nothing leaves this room," Dr. Hernandez swore to him.

==========

"I lost months of my life," Falco lamented, "I wake up one day, enjoying a festival that was supposed to unite the world against Paradis. The next thing I know, it's a war zone. After that I get shot, I black out, I wake up on another world, and find out that everything that I've ever known is gone. My parents, my home, Reiner and Porco died! And I couldn't do anything about it!"

"Falco, there's not much you could have you," Dr. Hernandez insisted, "Despite your training, you're still a child."

"But I was supposed to die for my country! Yet I'm somehow still alive! What about the people I was fighting for?!" Falco demanded, "And!...And it doesn't help when I caused the Liberio attack in the first place! I aided and abetted the enemy!"

Dr. Hernandez raised an eyebrow at that. "How?"

"I....I got tricked into sending letters to Eren Jaeger's comrades outside the internment zone," Falco sighed in defeat, "I still...I still haven't told anyone I've done it yet. And I don't want to."

"But it sounds like the guilt of keeping this a secret from the people you love is hurting you," Dr. Hernandez concluded, causing Falco to cross his arms and slouch in his chair.

=========

"I'm not saying anything to you!" Gabi declared with a pout, "You can't make me talk!"

"You're talking right now," Dr. Hernandez retorted.

"Shut up!" Gabi yelled at her.

"Gabi, I have already been made aware of the conditions that you've lived under. Understand that this is a safe place where you can express your feelings freely," Dr. Hernandez reassured.

"No!" Gabi spat at her.

"I'm going to have to assume it was because you weren't allowed to express your emotions freely," she assumed, "The others have talked to me about their feelings. This is a safe environment to speak up about your feelings."

"What did they talk about?" Gabi asked.

"I can't say. That'd be violating my oath," Dr. Hernandez answered.

Gabi's arms slowly uncrossed at that. "I know Falco said something mean about me."

"Why would you assume Falco said anything about you at all?" Dr. Hernandez asked.

"Ha! You admitted something! You broke your oath!" Gabi pointed at her.

"I didn't say anything revealing. I asked why you would assume Falco said something about you. From what I could gather, it sounds like you were assuming Falco was going to say something mean about you," Dr. Hernandez accused.

Gabi blushed with embarrassment.

"Why would you assume Falco said something mean about you?" Dr. Hernandez asked again.

"...Because I nearly got him killed," Gabi admitted, "I jumped onto the ship and he followed me to stop me...and he almost died because of it."

=========

“I loved Eren,” Armin confessed, “He was my best friend. My very first one, but…I couldn’t see the signs of his descent to madness. Or…maybe I didn’t want to see it.”

“Why did you not want to see it?” Dr. Hernandez asked as she wrote down ‘survivor’s guilt’ for Armin.

"Maybe I just didn't want to believe it," Armin answered, "Maybe because I didn't want to believe that my friend could ever be that cruel. I never thought his hatred could manifest in that kind of way."

Armin gripped his knees tighter. "Now I just....I hate him now. Or I'm trying to hate him, but I'm just finding myself to be a hypocrite when I do. And I still can't find it in me to hate him. We've been friends longer than enemies, and I tried so hard to help find another solution for him. Why wouldn't he accept another solution?"

"PTSD can manifest differently for each person if left untreated," Dr. Hernandez explained, "Common side effects can include aggression, social isolation, and depression. Eren was clearly traumatized at a young age and was never given the opportunity to grow past that trauma in a healthy way."

"But we were in the same situation!" Armin exclaimed, "We lost our homes! We lost our parents! Our comrades were eaten in front of us! Why did we end up so different?! Why am I still here while Eren isn't?!"

"From what I could gather, Eren Jaeger also possessed a tremendous amount of power at his age. That power, along with his PTSD and the threats of the world, got to his head at some point. He no doubt felt like a cornered animal trying to lash out, constantly trying to justify his actions until he couldn't anymore," Dr. Hernandez explained, "Perhaps there was a gap in understanding because of the power and responsibility he possessed."

"But we still tried to find other solutions!" Armin insisted, "We tried to give Eren a solution that would require the least amount of bloodshed!"

"And you did your part," Dr. Hernandez emphasized, "Armin, from what I could gather, you and your comrades provided Eren opportunities to stand down and find a peaceful solution, which he failed to take. You did your responsibility, but it was Eren who refused to take your offer of peace. You can't blame yourself for him not accepting that offer."

"I'm trying not too," Armin declared, "I...I really am trying. I've disowned him too. But every time I think about it, I feel more hypocritical because I helped save Megatron of all people. Do you realize how messed up that is? I've disowned Eren, but I'm defending Megatron."

"I suppose one could consider that hypocritical," Dr. Hernandez stated, "And I have a negative bias towards Megatron myself, as do many others. However, information I've been given shows that Megatron is taking accountability for his actions, and has actively risked his life for others with no reward in return."

"But I knew Eren my whole life! Megatron I've only known for fours years and most of those years were hostile!" Armin retorted, "I just...this isn't how I wanted things to be. And I'm angry and guilty and ashamed. Because I know that if I somehow managed to convince Megatron to change his mind, then I could have done more for Eren in order to prevent the Rumbling."

Dr. Hernandez sighed as she closed the notebook in her hand. "The unfortunate truth is I can't give you all the answers you want right now. You're showing clear signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety, Inferiority Complex, and Survivor's Guilt. And from experience, it can take a long time to properly manage such diagnoses."

"Not...cure," Armin pressed.

Dr. Hernandez smiled bitterly at that. "That'd be a wish anyone would want. To return to ignorance and innocence. But the reality is that it will always remain with you. No matter how many years have passed, no matter how big the jar gets, the thing that scarred you will always be apart of you. But it's up to you to decide how you handle your trauma. Do you let it harm you and consume you? Or do you take to proper steps to accept what happened and continue onward?"

========

That night

"So...how'd it go?" Jean asked everyone as they sat on the top of the Nemesis, earning groans of defeat from the majority of them.

"It went surprisingly well," Historia smiled.

"Ha! Ha! I'm a terrible person!" Hanji faceplanted into the ground.

"There's no way she actually said that," Miko retorted.

"No, I'm just reflecting on past behavior and I just....haven't been the best?" Hanji confessed.

"Shocker," Levi quipped.

"Apparently I've experienced something called 'religious trauma'," Ymir stated, "And that it led to me having my 'god complex'."

"I found myself admitting things I'm not proud of," Colt admitted.

"...we didn't talk much," Levi stated.

"Agreed," Gabi lied.

"Dr. Hernandez texted me, saying that she hopes you all follow up," Jack informed as he looked at his phone.

"We'll...think about it," Pieck decided.

"What are you all doing up here?" Optimus asked as he walked onto the roof of the ship, "And where have you been? I have had to deal with the Tybur's questioning today."

"Sorry, Optimus," Hanji apologized.

"It's alright, I...I have made it clear that I did not want to be involved with this world's politics," Optimus stated in annoyance.

"I will go and take care of that," Historia promised as she stood up and walked inside the Nemesis.

"Where were the rest of you?" Optimus asked the rest.

"Therapy," Levi stated bluntly.

Armin and Mikasa noticed the way Optimus flinched at that.

"Therapy?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah, I've been going to group therapy on Earth, so I recommended that everyone else go to therapy too," Jean explained.

"It was invasive. I don't like it," Gabi admitted, earning an elbow to the side from Falco.

"Ignore Gabi," Hanji said, "Therapy was good for us. You should try it. I'm sure there are Cybertronian therapists, right?"

"Yeah, but Optimus is also considered dead. Wouldn't the person talk about it?" Jean asked.

"I'm sure there's someone, right?" Hanji asked Optimus, and they noticed how Optimus darted his optics to the side, "So there is someone!"

"Bumblebee....recommended someone," Optimus confessed.

"So why don't you go?" Armin pressed.

"Wow, they are really good at playing dumb," Miko whispered to Jack.

"I..." Jack and Miko were stunned to see how nervous Optimus looked, "I have been busy."

"The Autobots can easily cover your shift," Hanji reminded, "They've done it before. And it's not you like talking to the world leaders. And we only had a thirty minute session."

"I can assure you that-!"

"For fuck's sake, go to therapy!" Levi shouted at him, causing everyone else to scream at Levi, "No fuck it, we are not coddling Optimus or anything like that! You need to go to therapy!"

"Captain, I can assure you that I am fine," Optimus insisted in a strained voice.

"Really?! You killed Eren and you're fine?!" Levi called him out, while everyone else fell dead silent, "All of us know how much that brat meant to you and you're the one that had to kill him! How the fuck are you fine?! All of us know that's a lie! Besides Megatron, you're the most fucked up out of all of us!"

"I am not going." Jack and Miko froze when they noticed the anger in Optimus' voice.

"Bullshit, you are!" Levi ordered, "How are you older than all of us and still acting like a child?!"

"My responsibilities are not yours to bare," Optimus reminded, "And I told you, I am-!"

"You're not fine!" Mikasa shouted, stunning everyone, "Optimus, you're not fine! None of us are! We all lost people we care about! We lost Eren, and it hurts me and it's hurting you and you know that! Denying it isn't going to help you!"

"You could have cost us the treaty with that outburst!" Levi reminded, "You cried over Eren after you killed him! How the hell are we supposed to interpret that?!"

"...There are many factors I would need to consider," Optimus quietly said.

"Then the Autobots can help out with that! I'm sure they'd be happy to do so!" Hanji reminded, "They have to be worried about you too!"

"Yeah, c'mon! We give a shit about you!" Miko chimed in.

"Optimus, please go to therapy. We're begging you," Armin pleaded, "We don't know how else to help you and we don't want your grief consuming you. We love you, and we want you to get better. Just please, please, tell us the truth so we can help you."

Optimus' helm hung low and he clenched his servos. He couldn't go. He didn't want to. He didn't want to confront the truth. He didn't want to be treated differently. He didn't want to admit his own failures as a leader and comrade. He was weak. He was cowardly. And he had to bare this burden alone. That's how it's always been.

But...it was wrong. He knew he wasn't well in his spark. He was in pain. He hadn't been able to sleep. It's been affecting him, and he's just fallen into the habit of trying to hide it. Was there any real need to hide it anymore? The war was over. Humanity was saved. And he was so tired of baring this burden alone. He wanted rest. He wanted release. He...he needed help. He did not want to keep living like this.

"I will...attempt to try-!" Optimus froze when he felt someone on his pedes. He looked down to see Mikasa hugging him as tight as she could, followed by Armin, Jean, Hanji, and Sasha. The Prime had kneeled down and scooped them up in his servos before cradling them close.

"Thank god," Levi sighed with relief, "At least Bumblebee will be happy."

"...we should confirm that he actually attempted therapy," Pieck suggested.

"Agreed," Erwin spoke up.

Miko raised her phone in the air to try and take a picture, but Jack placed his hand atop of the phone and lowered her arms.

========

The Next Day

Rung was quietly meditating in his office. The door was locked, his glasses were off, and his optics were closed. He mimicked breathing, inhaling and exhaling. He slowly let blue light pour out of his chest and dance around him. He focused on nothing, kept his mind calm, letting nothing outside of this room distract him-!

Rung’s colorful optics opened when he heard the familiar ping of his comm. link. The energy around him dissipated, and his optics returned to a cerulean color. It looked like his break was over. The therapist tapped the side of his helm to activate his comm. link. “Hello?”

“Hey, Rung?” A familiar voice greeted.

“Bumblebee, hello!” Rung exclaimed with excitement, “I know our last conversation you said you had to cancel because you found Arcee! And then I heard the Nemesis was taken! What happened?!”

“A lot,” Bumblebee vaguely replied, “Listen, I have a favor.”

“Anything for a friend,” Rung reassured.

“See…I have this…friend.” Rung could tell Bumblebee was choosing his words carefully, “And he’s been a little adamant to come to therapy. Part of it is because he’s afraid you might say something about him to the public.”

“Bumblebee, I am offended!” Rung exclaimed, “I am bound by a code! I do not leak client information!”

“It’s not just that!” Bumblebee insisted, “You…you cannot. And I mean, cannot, tell anyone about this patient!”

“Bumblebee-!”

“I mean it!” Bumblebee cut him off, “He’s putting a lot of trust in me and I really want to help him! You have to promise me you won’t say anything!”

“…You have my word. I will not say a word about this patient to anyone,” Rung declared, “Client confidentiality.”

Bumblebee sighed over the comm. link. “Okay. There’s a space bridge coming to get you.”

“Huh?” Rung jolted when a space bridge opened up behind him, “Who is this patient?!”

“Just come through!” Bumblebee pleaded.

“Fine.” Rung put his glasses on and grabbed his datapad and stepped through the space bridge, “But we’re having our appointment immediately afterwards because you’ve been putting it off for-!”

Rung froze as he made it to the other side of the space bridge. He was on the Nemesis. He could tell. He’s seen the ship up close before. Bumblebee was there in front of him, waving and looking rather nervous. But behind Bumblebee….was…Optimus Prime.

“…I have questions,” Rung stated after a moment of silence.

“Yes and I will answer them during our session, but Optimus could really use your help,” Bumblebee insisted.

“I mean!” Rung hated that he had to ask this question but he whispered to Bumblebee, “Are you certain that’s Optimus Prime?”

“Yes, he used the Star Saber,” Bumblebee whispered back.

“Is this what the call was for?!” Rung exclaimed.

“Yes-!”

“And please, please, don’t tell me Megatron is here too,” Rung pleaded, “Cybertronians have surmised they attract each other like magnets.”

Bumblebee looked rather nervous, confirming Rung’s suspicions. “Don’t tell me I have to give him therapy.”

“You don’t!” Bumblebee declared.

“This was a mistake,” Optimus spoke up, “My status will interfere with the therapy session.”

“Optimus, wait!” Bumblebee begged as he ran up to the Prime to get him to stay in the room. That’s when Rung noticed it. He noticed the Prime’s posture slightly slouched over. His voice sounded exhausted. His digits twitched at an abnormal rate, and his optics flickered.

“Your physical appearance suggests a lack of sleep,” Rung remarked, causing both to look at him, “Possibly insomnia.”

“…yes…” Optimus mumbled.

“For how long?” Rung asked.

Optimus didn’t answer. He refused to do so, averting his gaze from the smaller Cybertronian. Rung glanced over and Bumblebee and walked over to him. He grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him towards the door.

“Stay outside,” Rung ordered as he slammed his fist on the button to open the door, “And don’t run off! We have a long overdue session!”

Rung pressed the button again, shutting the door in front of Bumblebee. Rung turned to the Prime, who stared at him in surprise.

“This is a private session now,” Rung declared as he sat on the floor of the room, crossing his legs, "Sit. Let us begin."

"You...you will not tell anyone else?" Optimus asked him.

"Never," Rung swore, "As a licensed professional, and as someone grateful for your sacrifice, I will not tell anyone what is discussed her. And about you. Please take a seat."

Rung could tell that Optimus looked reluctant, but the Prime mustered up the courage to step forward and sit in front of Rung.

"So, how long have you been experiencing symptoms of insomnia?" Rung asked.

(God this was a long one. Anyway, still making edits to the final chapter. It should be posted by....let's say this weekend.)

[youhavehitawall]

i love hearing about your worldbuilding its my favoritest thing eaverrr 🎤what are ur current thoughts about car bloods if you have the time🥺

ifnot: 🐢 tortiese

i will happily make time for worldbuilding :)

not sure if specifically abt Genetics or about literal Bloods but ive talked abt genetics enough so blood time:

Cars have many different fluids that are integral to their function. Blood is not really one of them - they have substitutes for blood. And they have no repair system, so the important part of blood (keeping cells alive to regenerate) is not important.

But in cars universe, cars have a more organic composition and I would guess a small amount of self-repair ability? Because they're not concerned about little scratches or scrapes. They also eat non-metal foods. So these 'organic' components would make sense to have blood. (They're not really organic but are more closely resembling an organism to a rock or metal. It's a special pseudoalloy specific to the Cars universe) Car blood is called blood, nerve-blood, or ichor. It is highly toxic to organic life when wet. It has a very cloying copper-grease smell and moves strangely, as if mercury had a lower surface tension. When newly dry (an hour to five years) it has a soft clayish composition, often easy to mix with dirt. After five years, it slowly hardens and compacts with itself to become as hard as literal rock - sometimes taking hundreds of years. At the rock stage its original colour deepens and forms crystallic refractions. Ichor comes in many strange colours. It often coincides with a car's eyes or paint but there is no direct link to either. A car's gums and tongue are coloured with ichor. It is rarely seen in liquid form because its hoses run deep within a car's chassis and cabin, and are not supposed to be found. Major accidents or surgeries to the chassis rail can split these hoses and cause leaks. Damage to the gums and tongue can also cause bleeding but are rapidly repaired by the body.

Ichor dissipates easily into soils or substrates, and when dry, becomes a rich mineral deposit for certain plants or fauna. Metalroot is the most famous ichor-eating plant, known for growing over car's graves. Metalroot is a low-growing, densely leaved plant whose white flowers have a distinct chromatic gleam in sunlight. There's also a few animals that will dig for dried ichor because of its mineral richness.

Ichor eventually moves down into the rock bed. All cars come from the rock and they return to it. Many cars believe it's ichor that carries the cars' soul, and also that a car can remain as a ghost until their ichor is dissipated into rock. (And some believe that with a ritual, some pure ichor, and a body, a car's soul can be re-tethered.)

Large veins of crystallic rock-hard ichor, exposed to the right conditions, can sometimes bud and form bitlets that are an entirely new genetic subspecies of car. These species will have genetic components from whichever mixed bloods they spawn off, but are often new and different. Open rockfaces with ichor deposits are jealously guarded by individuals hoping to discover a new breed of car.

And rarer still, the buds turn into monsters...

[of-tatooine]

DULCE PERICULUM | CHAPTER IV - RED

justice the founder of my fabric moved.

(John Wick x Reader, Santino d'Antonio x Reader)

full work

Santino d’Antonio was a man of sheer principle.

Very few things could ever dare come in the way of stopping him, if he decided exactly what he wanted. The world was a simple place, after all, to men like him. There are rules to be followed - and there were men who set the rules for all to obey.

Santino preferred to be the latter.

He knew, from a very young age, that his actions would matter more than most people who had walked this soil before him. Indoctrinated, that some day, one very mighty day that he would come of age and rule the empire his family left him. That the ring adorning his father’s finger would soon be shining on his, the mere sight of it making men take a bow. Taking in Camorra’s teachings, day by day, age by age - the elder’s words gradually surrounding every aspect and second of his life.

A man devoid of routine and disciple could not be trusted to be the maker of the rules.

He liked his suits pressed, every inch of them carefully sewn and constructed - all custom made. He liked his men to report to him with a job well done, as soon as it was complete as he did not particularly enjoy to be the deliverer of punishment, unless the circumstances called for it.

He liked sipping his morning cappuccino early at dawn, watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean.

On the dot, the same exact time, each and every morning.

And one of the dearest ones to him, the one that perhaps brought him the most peace - he adored dinners shared in candlelight with you, his beloved, every single night that he could.

He enjoyed the flavor of the world’s most exquisite red wine trickling down his throat even more when he shared a glass with you. He liked sitting across from you, each night, on either an expansive dinner table or an intimate booth - whatever the night called for. He liked drowning in your eyes as the dessert course was served, savoring the sweetness.

He liked seeing how the wary candle flames illuminated your ever-so-gorgeous face.

“Santino,” came your calming voice, as if calling for him through the void, finally reaching light.

“Sì, amore?”

“Will Tarasov honor his promise?”

Strands of hair fell on your face as you posed the question in genuine conversation, a gentle movement of your fingers pushing them back, then leaning towards the wine.

“He better.”

A small grin adorned your lips, taking another sip as your gaze shifted towards the starry night across Rome, shining over your city.

“One thing I know for sure - men like him will never leave the work, amore,” he would slowly say, the gleaming crystal glass in his hands, crimson liquid shaking ever so slightly after his sip.

His eyes, though, seemed to be the slightest bit of troubled, a little aloof, yet calm and calculated as his gaze wandered over the ornate Caravaggio adorning the vast penthouse wall.

The Taking of the Christ.

It was one of his favorites. One of yours, rather, brought in by his request from the Metropolitan Museum of Art all the way across from the New World, back to where it belonged for eternity. He had noticed your eyes linger on the gleaming armor, masterful brushstrokes to create illusion of light, of hope, of dishonor as Christ was taken upon betrayal of Judas. It had been a marvel to you to see Christ’s halo, ever so gently painted with specks of gold, still be visible even against his upcoming miserable fate - it was an incessant topic of excitement over the dinner that followed the museum visit, your eyes shining move than gold ever could within the glimmers of the intimate flames of the restaurant.

The next day, he had the artwork installed at the Continentale.

He had made a silent pact with himself to keep that spark in your eyes.

After all, it was sometimes the small pleasures that mattered for Santino.

The penthouse echoed with his voice, the waitstaff replenishing bread and empty glasses like ghosts in the shadows - delicate, efficient, barely there.

“You think he can do it?”

“Sì,” your lips let go, not doubting for one split second. Maybe it was the past speaking, etched along the words in their everlasting effect. Deep within you, the voice knew that John would come out of this ordeal at the end of the day. He would find his way, claw through the concrete and raw earth if he had to.

Limping, bruised, bloodied, yet walking still.

Scarred, scathed, yet alive nonetheless.

Alive, and most importantly - a free man.

“Senza problemi,” you added for some good measure unbeknownst to you, nimble fingers cutting yet another piece of your food to savor. The most decadent of dishes as always, the intricate porcelain with gold specks, the polished silverware easily gliding through the veal as you took a bite.

Yet nothing could be done without his help. Without your carefully constructed plan, meticulously arranged meetings, no detail overlooked.

All of it done to aid none other than John Wick.

What would he do without you by his side?

It was a thought that rarely crossed his already convoluted mind, but when it did, it came down on him with a wave of emotions. Feelings that made his heart flutter for the briefest second, his jaw clenched taut for a fleeting moment.

The very life he led molded him into an expert of separating his emotions, dissociating the past from the present. It would not be the first, definitely not the last time that he buried memories to keep from resurfacing.

Santino knew of the past, your past, fragments of memories shared with him over the years. He knew that there was once a time your eyes gazed intimately at another pair but his.

He would be lying to himself thinking that the mere idea did not haunt him when times rolled around, when the name was mentioned.

A capo would be a fool to show his true colors for anyone to pry.

Yet, as he slowly made his way over to your end of the marble dining table - his body language, the mimics and the small movements he was habituated to hide, seemed to tell another story.

Was it jealousy? Need? Greed to keep you right there where he wanted, where you could be safe and protected?

Pulling out the closest plush dining chair to take a seat facing you. His striped three piece, casually chosen for the leisure of an evening meal with a lover at home, parting gently to reveal his crisp white shirt as he leaned over. Head tilted ever so slightly.

The glints in his green hues as his gaze lingered around your features accentuated by the fazing moonlight seemed to indicate a mixture of all.

His thumb slowly reached to lift your chin, now properly facing him. Gentle touches from hands that have bathed in blood. Knuckles that have broken bones caressing your cheek in the softest of touches.

His invaluable artwork, sitting right in front of him, looking up at him with expecting eyes laced with curiosity.

He could not help but wonder just how much longer could he protect you in this world you both were thrown into mercilessly, by blood or by oath.

Your body softened under his touch, habitually, gazing into his eyes and leaning with ease, finding yourself positioning closer to him, your black boatneck dress doing all the favors to your frame.

“I need you to be very careful when you’re in New York again,” Santino spoke with a clear, stern yet whispered soft voice. The ever-so-stray strand of curly black hair adorning his forehead, his clean-shaven skin smooth under the moonlight. The fireplace towards the center of the room cackling as the wood burnt, casting a gentle orange shadow to contrast the silver light of the night.

“Tarasov is one beast, his enemies are another.”

Getting the so-called “impossible task” ready would not have been an easy feat. Santino had no doubt in his head that you would the plans to imminent success, one by one, assembling all the targets right where you wanted them to be. However, like any lower would - he worried.

A nod came from your side as a response, smiling tenderly yet softly at him, leaning your head into his palm as his warm fingers embraced your cheek. Your hand found its’ way to rest softly on his thigh, freshly red manicure in stark contrast against the navy wool.

“Non ti fare problemi per me,” you would say. “I will be just fine.”

“Bene,” he would respond after a short pause of looking for truth in your eyes.

You spoke the truth to Santino - yes, you would be fine. You always turned out to be quite alright after even more dangerous situations that this life had put you through, if your lucky streak did not fail you this time.

To you, deep down, this all seemed to be a twisted return of fate. A little laugh of the heavens above, having a little fun with the both of you. Helping the man who led you astray all those years ago.

It may have been an unthinkable back then, yet it indeed was happening the moment you would step onto that private jet in the hangar the following day, with Santino, as charming as ever, waving you off with the smile on his face.

And only then, would you realize.

John was going through all of this trouble, this mayhem - all for her.

Something he never would have done for you.

“Come here,” Santino would whisper, attempting to silence the rampant thoughts running through with a loving kiss - the familiar exquisite scent of the sea salt, pine and bergamot enhancing your senses.

It felt right.

It had always felt right with him. His warm touch, gentle embrace - his touch so delicate that he seemed almost afraid to break you.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, you could hear the light as a feather taps of dress shoes against hardwood as the waitstaff promptly took the cue to excuse themselves, the doors clicking shut.

Santino’s rugged hands found your thighs, deepening the kiss as he roamed up to your waist, peppered touches becoming demanding.

The wine fresh on his lips, enticing and inviting to taste more.

And so you did.

You yearned to taste more of him as he effortlessly lifted you up to carry you towards your bedroom, your patent leather heels slipping onto the floor, your hands buried in his hair, nails that would dig onto his back in the following moments of the night.

Santino never ceased to remind you of his attraction towards you, and yours towards him. Times like this, he liked to use it to his advantage, to serve a noble cause.

And as your eyes rolled back out of sheer pleasure - the world besides Santino ceased to exist for a split moment.

He was the only truth. He had been the only truth, the one that mattered. The sole constant in your life, the only one that could make you feel in bliss.

And he vowed to never let you forget it.

[theoneinthemiddle]

Boring is good. Right now, boring is what I think we all need. *I take a sip from my own glass* That itch under your skin, the want for adventure and excitement and chaos isnt easy to soothe, but a lot of us are proud of you. I might not be "proud", but ive started respecting you.

*I lean back, staring at the liquid, not meeting his eyes* Im glad I didnt put a bullet in you that first day.

"oh really?... You may want to take that back while you still can"

*He emptied his glass in one gulp, keeping it in his hand as he looked at his distorted reflection on the crystal*

"I'm not good, kid and I'll never be, that goes against everything I ever was and everything I ever did, being sorry won't change anything so I'll just continue to be the monster everyone knows... I'm afraid what you are seeing here is temporary"

[ryebreadedd]

What’s ur fav headcanon ?

Imsorry ive forgotten every headcanon ever.

But……. I guess i do have a headcanon abt how the inkantation ties into the liquid crystal lore. Being a headcanon that maybe the inkantation was originally an alternan song reflecting the desires of humanity to see the surface again, which got passed down to the inkfish thru the liquid crystals hence the “written in the dna” thing. The songs original lyrics and meaning from the humans have been lost, as its since become a song about showing respect to the sea, but the liquid crystals within the inkfish still react the same way and causes that drive for the surface seen in octolings. Also partly inspired by the part in wave goodbye where people say it sounds like human voices singing a part of the inkantation

[scgwitchery]

Water what it is used for and what it represents:

I. Symbolic Significance of Water in Ritual and Spell Work

1. Elemental Power:

Water is one of the four classical elements—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. It embodies:

Emotion

Intuition and Psychic Ability

Subconscious Mind

Dreams and Visions

Healing and Cleansing

2. Associations and Correspondences:

Direction: West

Season: Autumn

Planet: Moon or Neptune

Zodiac Signs: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Deities: Aphrodite, Yemaya, Poseidon, Isis, etc.

Chakra: Sacral (associated with emotion and fluidity)

3. Spiritual Concepts:

Life and Birth: Water is often seen as the womb of creation. It nurtures and gives life.

Transformation: Like water shifting between liquid, ice, and vapor, it represents change, emotional adaptability, and spiritual evolution.

Purity and Renewal: Symbolizes the washing away of negativity, guilt, pain, or spiritual blocks.

II. Practical Uses of Water in Ritual and Spell Work

1. Cleansing and Purification

Before Rituals: Used to cleanse the space, tools, or the practitioner themselves. This may be done by sprinkling, anointing, or bathing.

Ritual Baths: Prepared with herbs, oils, or salts to purify body and spirit before major workings.

Holy or Charged Water: Moon water, storm water, or sea water is often used as a cleansing agent imbued with specific energies.

2. Spell Ingredient

Water can be used as an active component in spells for:

Love (rosewater, moon-blessed water)

Healing (infused with herbs or crystals)

Divination (especially in scrying)

Dream Work (sleep teas, washes, or containers placed under the bed)

Spirit Work (offered to spirits or used in spirit bowls)

3. Scrying Medium

Mirror of Water: A bowl of still water may be used to receive visions or messages. The surface acts as a portal between the conscious and unconscious.

Moon Scrying: Performing water scrying under the light of the full moon to enhance intuitive clarity.

4. Offerings and Libations

To Spirits or Deities: Clean water is a universal offering, often poured or left on altars.

Libations to Ancestors: Poured water serves as a connection to lineage and spirit communication.

5. Binding or Banishing

Freezing Spells: Placing objects, names, or intentions into water and freezing it to “bind” or “pause” a situation or person.

Flood or Dispersal: Symbolically washing away a condition or person by discarding water after a ritual.

6. Amplifying Lunar and Emotional Work

Moon Water: Water charged under the moon, especially the full or new moon, used to enhance spells related to intuition, dreams, fertility, or cycles.

Emotional Healing: Water-based rituals often help in grief, heartbreak, anxiety, or emotional trauma healing.

III. Types of Water and Their Occult Uses

Type of Water Ritual Use:

Moon Water: Charged under lunar light for emotional, psychic, or feminine work.

Storm Water: Raw power, chaos spells, or transformational energy.

Sea Water: Deep ancestral, oceanic wisdom, cleansing, and fertility.

Rain Water : Fresh starts, blessings, general purification.

Spring Water: Healing, nourishment, consecration.

River Water: Movement, change, breaking stagnation, life flow.

Well Water: Wisdom, depth, connection to underworld or spirits.

Snow or Ice Water: Preservation, freezing spells, reflection.

IV. Ritual Examples Using Water

1. Cleansing Ritual with Salt Water:

Mix sea salt into spring water and sprinkle around a ritual space to banish negativity and set sacred space.

2. Love Spell:

Rose petals, moon water, and a drop of your essence (hair, saliva, etc.) in a bowl charged under Venus-hour moonlight.

3. Ancestral Connection:

A clear glass of water placed on an ancestral altar to facilitate connection. Changed daily as an offering and to keep energy pure.

4. Mirror Scrying with Water:

Fill a black bowl with water and use in candlelight to gaze and receive symbolic visions.

5. Freezing Curse:

Name or image of a target placed in a water-filled container, spoken over with intention, then frozen to stop their influence.

6. New Moon Womb Spell:

Use moon water infused with mugwort, lavender, and bloodstone. Bathe or anoint your womb space for fertility or creative manifestation.

V. Final Thoughts on Water in Ritual Work

Water is uniquely responsive and reflective, making it ideal for spells that rely on emotional energy, psychic force, and spiritual intention. It absorbs and amplifies what it is imbued with—whether that’s a spoken enchantment, a lunar blessing, or the essence of a sacred plant.

In esoteric practice, water is never passive—it is active, flowing, devouring, healing, and echoing. It can be as serene as a still pond or as destructive as a tsunami. This duality makes it one of the most potent substances in any spellcaster’s arsenal. Used with precision and purpose, water becomes not just a tool, but a living ally in the craft.

[helluvascribe]

Rolando's Revenge Season 1 Episode 1: Envy Sweet Envy

Rolando, burned and barely alive, lay in a heap on a black sandy beach. It had taken all of his remaining strength just to head back to his room in his shadowy form and retrieve the crystal to go back to Hell. He was grateful to have been able to sense the energy of the crystal from his room…he was mostly blind otherwise. His clothes were torn, his body burned, and his glasses shattered.

Being beaten by Blitzo and Millie and being electrocuted in the pool was incredibly agonizing. Aside from slowly re-materializing from his shadow form, he felt utterly powerless. He couldn’t see, couldn’t teleport and he could barely move.

Worst of all, he was starving like Hell. Infestor demons depended on meat and negative energy as their primary food sources. Of course, their own negative energy didn’t exactly count…for who would dare try to feed off themselves?

The salt ocean water swept over Rolando’s body, making the wounds sting. He cried out and rolled toward shore pathetically like a fish flopping on the beach for air. Rolando almost wished he had gone out of existence back at the pool.

He stared at the indigo sky with his remaining charred yellow eye and before he passed out, he felt a faint sense of relief that he was home.

0 0 0

Rolando woke up in a hospital in the Envy Ring. Nurse sharks tended to his burns, leaving him in bandages for a while. Replacing his right eye was too expensive, but they managed to support the left one with some wires and tech from the Sloth Ring hospitals. He briefly had an IV attached to his arm, giving him blood and healing water.

“Fautrau’s friend found you on the beach and identified you for us,” explained the nurse. “I’m honestly surprised you survived such an event. Logically you should be dead by now.”

‘I wish I was,’ he thought. All he could do was groan in response.

It took several weeks for the burns to heal and several more weeks to learn how to walk again.

“It may be a couple of months before you’re able to transform into your underwater form,” one of the nurses stated.

‘My powers? Gone?! No, no, this can’t be happening!’

The Envy Ring was surrounded by thin ocean water, thin enough for the denizens to wander on land without having to worry about getting too dry. But a much thicker sea was below the city, the perfect realm for vibrant sea life.

Saying goodbye to the main ocean…it was incredibly sad, but doable.

When Rolando was well enough to walk and his thinking was almost back to normal, another nurse talked to the demon who had found Rolando on the beach.

“Be sure to keep an eye on him,” she said.

The demon nodded. “I will. But I have a feeling it may take a while for him to adjust back to Envian life.”

The demon walked over to Rolando.

“I’ll take you home,” he said to Rolando. He guided Rolando to a blue liquid vehicle shaped like an eel. Rolando curled in the back seat as the demon drove and continued. “I’ll let Fautrau and Georgina know you’re okay. But bad news mate…your trip to the hospital has left you broke. But don’t worry, your job at ‘Happy Ocean Vegetable Farm’ starts tomorrow!”

Rolando let out a hoarse croak of protest. He stared in disgust at the light blue hospital gown he wore.

The demon shrugged. “I’m sorry, but that’s the best I could do. I didn’t know if you’d come back alive or not and when I heard you were…not exactly following the rules on Earth, I figured you’d need something just in case.”

Rolando sighed.

“The janitor and burger flipping jobs were taken,” the demon added.

‘Who even are you?’ Rolando thought.

“Surprised you asked this late,” said the demon, reading his thoughts. He gave him a small smile of sharp teeth. His eyes glowed blue and his skin was dark gray with a few black spots. His ears were small fins on either side of his head. His hair was white and short, matching his transparent white fins along his back. He wore blue jeans and a black sweater and a shark-tooth necklace. “I’m Typhon.”

The ride was silent until Typhon asked in thought: ‘Do you want me to try and contact your parents?’

Rolando turned away in response. His mother Roberta and his father Roderick had left him a long time ago once he became of age to survive on his own. It was normal for many families in Envy. He couldn’t even contact their phone numbers or anything. To run back to one’s parents would be seen as cowardice to many, running away from adulthood. It was almost as bad as getting hundreds of negative comments on your online profile.

‘I’m sorry, man,’ Typhon continued to him in his mind. ‘My dad died when I was young, but my mom let my uncle raise me in secret. I know you haven’t seen any of us since…’

‘Since I was assigned to haunt humans at the One Star Wonder Hotel,’ Rolando thought.

Typhon led him back to his house. It was a small penthouse made of light blue coral and marble. Typhon opened the seahorse-shaped door handles. They stepped into a living room with a flat TV, a seaweed-covered carpet and nice sea sponge couches.

Rolando thought of his small cave home and how it looked nothing like Typhon’s spacious place.

“I know where your underwater cave is,” said Typhon. “Hopefully you’ll be able to get back soon. My wife and kids are asleep so don’t wake them. You can stay with me and sleep on the couch while you recover. But food and rent is all on you.”

Rolando nodded somberly.

Typhon smirked playfully. “Kinda fun now that I can read your thoughts, and you can’t. I bet you’d be bait for even children infestors now.”

Rolando seized up and froze. His remaining eye twitched.

“It might be hard without your infestation ability for a while…” Typhon continued.

Rolando’s body shook and hovering a few inches off the ground, he bent his head almost completely backwards.

Typhon stepped back. “Rolando, what the fuck are you doing…?”

Rolando let out frustrated growls and then a distorted despairing cry.

“Hey, settle down!”

Rolando rolled over toward the wall and banged his head several times, leaving deep cracks.

“Not cool, mate!” Typhon chided, folding his arms.

‘YOU’RE TELLING ME I CAN’T INFEST ANYMORE?!’

“No, Rolando! I didn’t say that…!” Typhon called.

“Ty!” called a voice from upstairs. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, my precious pearl!” Typhon called. “Just…playing a soccer match on my Sea-S-3 console!”

‘EVERYONE GETTING INTO MY HEAD…NEVER TASTING ANYONE’S DESPAIR AGAIN? INFESTING’S WHO I AM, MY VERY PURPOSE!’

“I know, Rolando, you don’t have to scream into my mind!” Typhon flinched, covering his ears. “Just listen to me…”

He stumbled into the kitchen and winced as he grabbed…

“OH, FUCK NO!” cried Typhon.

Rolando held a knife up to his throat with a shaking hand.

“No offing yourself under my roof!” Typhon scolded.

‘IF I CAN’T INVADE MINDS, WHAT’S THE POINT?!’

“You’ll get your powers back…hopefully,” Typhon mentioned.

Typhon stared hard at Rolando, sending a force that caused him to drop the knife. It landed with a clatter on the kitchen floor. Rolando swung out his fists, which Typhon easily blocked.

“You’re not the top fish anymore, don’t waste your energy.”

‘EVERYONE SHOULD FEAR ME!’

“I am afraid…I’m afraid of what you’ll do to yourself in this state,” Typhon mentioned with a sad look.

‘I’M GONNA KILL THAT BETHANY GHOSTFUCKER IMP DICK!’

“Not in this state, you won’t.”

Rolando jabbed at him with several kicks, but to no effect. Typhon sent a force that sent Rolando sliding across the floor and just slightly against the wall. He was lifted up into the air by Typhon’s telekinesis, carried to the living room and dropped hard onto the couch.

‘YOU PRICK…LET ME GO…!’

Typhon barred his teeth and roared loudly into his face. In an instant, Typhon had shifted into shadowy liquid and peered into his mind.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD…”

Typhon could hear him speak. “You’re an infestor demon…you should be used to this feeling. You’ve had other infestors in your head as practice many times.”

Rolando was chained to a seat in his own mental movie theater. Typhon looked up at the green tinted screen and saw Rolando’s memory of fighting Blitzo and Millie and getting electrocuted in the pool.

“NO, NO, NO…”

“Keep watching, Rolando,” Typhon chided. “It’s the only way to move forward.”

“NO!”

“If you don’t want me to also see your most embarrassing moments, then listen.”

Rolando choked, then took several deep breaths, barring his teeth.

Typhon appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know you don’t even know who the hell I am. But let’s get some things straight. You’re not at the hotel anymore and you’re not at your home. While under my house, you need to be on your best behavior.”

“You gonna torment me, too? Embarrass me?” Rolando spat.

“You know infestor friends only do that to each other as occasional pranks. I’m being dead serious. If you aren’t eldritch enough to settle down and live responsibly, I could easily send you off on your way as a homeless fish man! If you don’t want that, then buckle the fuck up, buttercup!”

Rolando gulped.

“Are we clear on this?”

Rolando nodded. A flood of regret and exhaustion came over him. “Oh Satan…I…I don’t know what came over me…”

Typhon smiled softly. “Well, you brain may have been a little fried during the experience, so…”

Typhon waved a clawed hand and stepped back. “This is your one chance. I’m gonna let you go now. No more complaining, no more recklessness.”

Typhon vanished in a dark stream and rematerialized in front of him in the living room.

‘As for that happy farmer job, forget it! Not happening.’ Rolando scowled.

“You’ll thank me later.”

‘Why?’

Rolando soon found out why when Typhon returned a few hours later.

“I found your cellphone form your cave and charged it.” Typhon winced. “Your friends are glad you’re okay, but they want to see you well and back in the ocean. And look here. It’s a pre-recorded message…I think you’d better listen to it.”

Rolando turned pale. His phone read “Message from Queen Leviathan.”

Queen Leviathan appeared on screen, sitting at her desk, holding a long black cigarette in her hands. She wore a short black shirt with an open diamond hole in the center. The swirl design on the right was deep purple and the one on the left was lavender. Leviathan had two heads. On the left was the cheerful white head with pearl earrings on her fin ears, and large black eyes with green pupils and thick hair of purple, black and white. The head on the right was more cynical and shaped like a purple dragon. It had glowing green eyes and thick tentacle hair with green glowing spots and was different shades of purple and white. Both of them wore light green pearl necklaces as well.

Queen Leviathan’s purple head spoke.

“Greetings, Rolando. As my top infestor demon, I have noticed that you have not reported to me since the start of your assignment. If you are dead, then I hope you find peace. If not, listen carefully. Sensing snippets of your thoughts and activities, my royal inspectors have observed you and have found your sloppy reckless killings to be unacceptable, even for an infestor. The rules were to infest certain humans to make them fearful so the demon race can eventually infiltrate Earth along with the succubi, imps, and other species in the proper timeframe. You were explicitly told to only kill those who know about Hell and to properly hide your evidence. You have failed to comply and instead have carelessly left your messes behind and risked humans knowing of your existence and of our own. Your sadistic cravings for fear and blood almost jeopardized the greater mission for demonkind. It is my regret to inform you of your permanent suspension from my mortal infestation project.”

Leviathan’s white head piped up. “In other words, Rolando, you’re fired! I’m sorry! I hope you have a nice day!”

The screen turned black.

“The look on your face is beyond priceless, right now!” Typhon giggled, snapping a picture on his phone.

Rolando could barely think. He had no powers, no job, and worst of all, he had no negativity in him except his own.

“Oh, and you’ll be paying to fix my wall,” Typhon also mentioned before disappearing up the stairs.

Rolando slammed his head against the couch armrest.

The next morning at sunrise, Rolando folded his arms as he stood wearing a light blue dress-like apron and a long blond wig over his bald head. He had to settle for cheap pink sunglasses shaped like hearts to wear over what was left of his eyes. On the front of his apron was a yellow happy face with “Love Brings Me Joy!” written in gold letters on the front.

‘This is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!’

Typhon giggled and gave him a thumbs-up before heading off with his lavender-colored fish wife and two little guppies trailing behind.

“Howdy, howdy there,” smiled a giant great white shark wearing overalls with the Happy Ocean Vegetable logo. “The names Big Blanc. Here’s your starting kit.” He handed Rolando a plow and mentioned to an underwater field of seaweed, flowers, fruits, and sea cucumbers.

“This here is our special community garden. Your job is simple: tend it from sunrise to sunset!” Muscular sharks were lifting rocks and a few fish in uniforms were giving tours.

“Help us sell our products!” the shark continued. “We have sold sixty ocean fruit, one hundred thirty flowers and over three hundred hallmark cards…we’re always trying to beat our record!”

Rolando hung his head.

“Don’t worry about your voice, I’m sure it will return in a bit or so. Good luck, little mute man!” called the shark with a wink. “Oh, and don’t forget to entertain the guppies!”

‘The what…?’

Rolando soon found himself assaulted and knocked over by a swarm of little rainbow fish and a few electric eels. He let out a cracked yell. The fish kids were estatic.

“Who’s this guy?”

“He looks so funny in those glasses! Hahahaha!”

“Hey, do you play soccer?”

“Give me some berries! Now!”

“I got your ear! I got your ear!”

Rolando tried to scare them, but they burst into laughter. The positive emotions were making him nauseous.

“Come along kids,” said one of the parents. “That guy’s got a lot of work to do!”

Rolando sighed as he stared at the endless rows of dirt.

‘Such tedious commoner work!’ Rolando thought as he strained his back, planting seeds, pulling up vegetables and carrying big loads for the customers. Several times, he accidentally rammed into carts and other workers.

“Watch where you’re going,” snarled a bipedal fish with spikes along his face and back.

Two days a week, he worked at the desk, selling love cards.

“Keep it up, Ronaldo! Keep those souls coming in!” called the shark manager.

‘It’s Rolando!’ he seethed.

“Remember the motto?” asked Big Blanc. “Go ahead and say it out loud this time!”

“Happy Ocean Vegetable Garden, we love to spread cheer, and we love to serve you here,” Rolando recited in a mundane tone at the counter. It hurt to finally use his voice.

“I asked to return this bag of melons, why’d you make it so expensive anyway?” asked a fish customer with hands on her hips. “You people need to do your job, properly like back in the old days…bottom-feeder laborers I swear…”

“Are you blind, you hick?!” scowled another lady at Rolando, carrying a purse in her hand and reaching for a bouquet of flowers. “I was supposed to get 25% off these flowers and I’m running out of cash! Do you want my husband to get mad at me for being late?”

“Yes…”

She slapped him hard. “What a one star wonder you are!” She huffed and stormed away.

Rolando had to stay extra hours to compensate for his “sour resting fish face.” He was lectured further at more meetings until the sky was beyond black.

“Hi, old man!” hollered a bunch of kids in his ear during another shift. One of the fish kids went to the bathroom on his shoe. He had to resist the urge to kick him. Several baby eels and fish cried nearby and wouldn’t stop until they finally fell asleep in their parent’s fins. Later on, Rolando flinched as a dog fish swam over and licked him on his cheek.

“Gross!”

Rolando watched people kissing, laughing, and mocking him as he worked day after day. No negativity and no meat anywhere. He felt weak and feeble, and several times he had to race to a trash can when it got to be too much.

It was utter Hell…and Envy was hellish enough.

“Sooo, how was your first week at work?” Typhon smirked as Rolando slouched into the room. “Fun waking up at five in the morning?”

Rolando collapsed onto the couch. “Do I really…need to tell you?”

Typhon laughed. “Oh right, you don’t need to tell me! I can read all your thoughts!”

“Go away!”

Typhon held up his claws. “Okay then. Mr. grumpy gills wants to be alone. Lonely. Fine by me. I was just going to head out with my family anyway. We’re going to an infest fest event in the ocean…oh…”

Rolando glowered. He didn’t have the strength to use his possession powers yet…he needed a lot more negative energy.

Typhon looked concerned. “That’s okay, mate. I know you can’t join in the contests anymore, but…I’ll be sure to save you a taste of meat. Or negativity, somewhere.”

“Thanks,” Rolando sighed.

“Shella!” Typhon called to his wife. “Billy, Bobby, let’s hit the stream!” Two bipedal pufferfish boys followed their parents as they headed out the door. Rolando was relieved when he got to eat meat from fish, sharks, eels and even some other demons that Typhon had bought for him at the store. But no food could compare to the insecurities of others. So he ate without much satisfaction.

The weeks went by. The only good thing that happened was when Rolando could eventually shapeshift into his underwater form.

“Oh, thank Tiamat,” Rolando sighed in relief after a lot of practice. “I need to get home and hunt some fish asap.”

He had been hunting fish and smaller creatures ever since his parents taught him long ago. The taste of meat and the fear from them was always satisfying enough for the moment.

“I gave you some dead fish yesterday,” Typhon mentioned.

“But with no fear left inside! There was no flavor!”

“Bitch, you have no flavor!” Typhon playfully elbowed him and rubbed his fingers together.

Rolando and Typhon stood outside Typhon’s home.

Rolando sighed and gave Typhon a bag of two hundred souls plus extra to repair the wall.

‘Thank you,’ he thought to Typhon.

“Hey, no problem. Come visit anytime,” said Typhon. “But remember, stay at your job and no reckless behavior.”

‘When I come back and invade your mind…’ Rolando thought.

‘You won’t stand a chance,’ Typhon responded playfully in his head. ‘I’ll embarrass you in your mind so much, you’ll laugh at your own foolishness. Go ahead, your pals are waiting.’

Rolando stared at the ocean in the distance and showed a genuine smile for the first time since his return.

[sad-ghost-of-garbage]

Ivy Act IV

Author: SadGhostofGarbage

David x G/N reader and Michael x G/N reader

Warnings: MDNI! TOXIC relationships, DARK fic, swearing, cheating on a partner, torture, mental manipulation, pet names, David calls himself daddy but like he’s not wrong. Mentions of sex. Reader having insecurities. 

This is another Dark chapter, so read the warnings.

Act IV FALL 

You hoped you’d dream of a blizzard.

Even with closed eyelids you could feel how bright your surroundings were. With furrowed brows you struggle to keep your eyes open with the bright white light surrounding you. After managing to get your eyes adjusted, you take a look around. You were sitting under an oak tree, but everything else was a blur due to the flurries of snowflakes falling from the sky. 

A blizzard indeed.

You couldn’t see anything past the sheet of white surrounding you, everything felt blurry, foggy even, and that didn’t feel like it was from the snow. Despite the storm you find yourself standing in you still feel as though you were on fire. Panic starts to creep into your body, taking over your system until you’re shaking and on your knees. Hyper-ventilating you try and calm yourself down, but nothing is working and you still feel like you are boiling from the inside out. You were going to go insane; when you saw it. A slight shadow in the distance. Trying to wipe your tears so you could get a better look, but you were in so much pain that focusing was difficult. The shadow got bigger until It was right in front of your face. Barely managing to look up you are met with a crystal clear view of David’s face. He looks at you with a look of expectancy and question. His gaze fills your gut with guilt and shame.

“Why?” His voice was piercing yet melodic. You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you knew. You knew the moment your eyes met his, he was disappointed in you. New tears welled in your eyes as you feel every bit of guilt and shame for your actions. You swore  you’d never regret your time with… Michael, but in this moment you felt terrible for causing pain to the beautiful blonde in front of you. “I love you y/n, and this is how you respond? By stomping on my love, spitting in my face?” Crying openly you try to tell him you’re sorry that you didn’t want to hurt him, but you don’t get a word out. “Save it. I don’t need to hear excuses.” He grabs your jaw and jerks it back and forth a bit before running a covered thumb over your lips. “I need you to do something for me, can you do that?” You manage a sort of nod, because his grip on your jaw does not loosen nor do you get the impression he wants you to speak. “Good, now I need you to make a choice, I shouldn’t really trust your judgment after the last decision you made, but to be fair Michael coerced you into making a really stupid decision. For this however I am going to tell you now, you’re mine. I don’t care what Michael said. You. Are. Mine.” The way he says Michael’s name is like he is spitting bile from his mouth. It contains no hatred, yet there is a rage that can’t be masked. “So no matter what you choose, you're mine. But how we get there is up to you kitten. I am going to make sure you never need another person, never want another. Any and everything you need will come from me. You can admit your rightful place is here by my side or you can fight. Be warned kitten, if you fight I will make the pain you experience when I alter your mind excruciating. I will make you see your precious Michael as he torments you, I will not spare a single gory memory of what he's done to you. Now. Choose.” Michael had done terrible things to you, no matter the reason, you couldn't remove that from your mind. Michael had hurt you. Every time you closed your eyes you saw Michael. Not the sweet loving Michael who made flowers blooming in your chest no, you saw the monster that he warned you he was. You could feel his hands burning your skin as he broke your bones, could feel the liquid fire every time he sunk his fangs into your flesh and tore chunks off. No longer could you think of him as anything other than anguish. Your heart didn’t call for the warmth, as you knew it brought only blistering pain. David’s icy blue eyes sent chills over your body leaving behind a cool numb, and god it was comforting. You knew you fucked up, you had betrayed David and yet he still saved you from Michael. He still loves you after everything you’ve done to hurt him, he still wants to take care of you. And you break down sobbing, gripping at David’s coat, stuttering out, apologizing and begging forgiveness. David’s facial expression is neutral as he says,

“I need to hear you say it.” Looking up at David you know what he means. Part of you is screaming, telling you to run. This is what Michael warned you about, the predator that Michael is adamant that David is. But it hadn’t been David who lost control and nearly drank you dry, it had been Michael. The half of you that was still in love with Michael was fighting, screaming at you to listen, telling you this was wrong. But you couldn’t care, you just wanted to fix your mistakes. You wanted the cold comfort that David had always given you. With a shaky breath and as much courage as you could muster you made your choice.

“I’m yours David.” The smile that erupts on his face filled your heart with everything you were missing. The joy you feel as he pets your hair, as he looks at you with pride shining bright in his eyes. And in that moment you knew you’d do anything for him to always look at you like that.

“Good kitty, now let daddy make everything all better.”

Taglist: @britany1997 @henhouse-horrors​ Thanks for the support babes! Again if you want to be tagged in the Ivy fic or any of my TLB fics just ask :)

[practically-an-x-man]

Your OCs are given a bag. Inside is the thing they desire most- even potentially something intangible, like a potion that could restore their childhood innocence, or their pet that died 15 years ago. What do they pull out of the bag?

Oooh, fascinating! This is a good one...

Rae: Pulls out a huge dictionary of world languages, where upon reading it she will absorb the knowledge of any language she reads about. It's maybe not what she wants most in the world, but she's overall pretty happy and it was the first thing she could think of.

Robin: Pulls out a series of small charms - the sort that can be affixed onto a bracelet or necklace, or tucked in a wallet - that will offer protection to whoever keeps them on their person. She gives one to each member of her family, as well as Peter and his mother. She wants her loved ones to be safe, above all else.

Madison: Pulls out a pair of glass knives - the knives her father made for her, but intact and as sharp as they day he made them, without all the years of wear and tear. Included also is a letter from her parents, telling her they're still proud of her and don't blame her for what happened to her brother. She doesn't quite trust the letter, since she's pretty sure it's just a trick of the magic, but she puts the knives up on her wall so they'll never get damaged like her first set of knives did.

Ophelia: Pulls out a small vial of orangeish, cloudy liquid. If or when she drinks it, it will give her a set of superpowers of her own - superstrength, accelerated healing, enhanced reflexes. It's nothing extreme, since so much of herself comes from what she's built herself, but it'll let her keep up with the others without having to keep up with her rigid training and constant upkeep.

Jasper: Pulls out a small tub of lotion - when they apply it to Kyle's scars, the scars disappear along with any itchiness or discomfort they caused him. It leaves him feeling more like himself than he has in years, and there's nothing that brings Jasper more relief than to see him as happy and comfortable as he used to be.

Kestrel: Pulls out a normal-looking nametag, with the name "Kestrel" scrawled across it in permanent ink. Confused, they peel it up and stick it to their shirt - it disappears in a flash, but Kestrel suddenly feels settled into their body, like they don't have to fight hard to maintain their who they are anymore.

Katherine: Pulls out a small, moon-shaped charm, that she will later affix to a silver bracelet. It will allow Ahk (or anyone else in the museum) to walk in sunlight safely as long as they wear it, so they can enjoy the sunshine and a few normal days

Quinn: Pulls out an IV bag filled with slightly cloudy liquid. When she has Five (the resident doctor) hook her up and start a drip, the liquid knocks her out like anesthetic... but when she wakes up, she's pain-free and her back and legs are completely healed to the way they were before her fall.

Eris: Pulls out a set of dog tags, identical to the ones Rick wears around his neck. As long as Rick wears them, he won't age, and his wounds heal at almost the same speeds as Eris' own - he's not a metahuman, the powers are still tethered to the tags and he can remove them at any point to live a normal life (his life will continue from the point he removes them, the age won't catch up to him Mother Gothel-style or anything), but it'll give Eris the extra years they want with him if he chooses to wear them.

Nikoletta: Pulls out a necklace with a charm that looks like a crystal ball. When she puts it on, the crystal ball appears to fill with black smoke. When Abner puts it on, the ball fills with swirling, multicolored light - it temporarily removes any metahuman powers or abilities, including all side effects, without any ill effects of its own.

[scopostims]

the album cover for "ive got your soul" by mr rocambole stimboard for @boba-foxy :•]

[ID: A 3x3 stimboard of 8 GIFs surrounding a central image.

GIF 1: Footage panning around a cluster of small pink flowers on a branch, gently swaying in the wind.

GIF 2: Panning footage of the mouthpiece of a saxophone.

GIF 3: A digital render panning around pink crystals as blue light pulses over them.

GIF 4: Light-skinned hands showing off an enamel pin of the pokemon "Vaporeon".

Image: The album cover for "I've got your soul" by Mr. Rocambole.

GIF 5: Light-skinned hands squishing a round plushie of the pokemon "Vaporeon".

GIF 6: Light-skinned hands flipping over a pink liquid timer that's hourglass-shaped with a duck charm inside.

GIF 7: Panning footage around a saxophone.

GIF 8: Clusters of warm pink flowers on a tree gently swaying in the wind in front of a clear blue sky.

End ID]